Texty: Dropkick Murphys. The Hardest Mile.
I'm heading for a life in the land of the free
Sending every penny home to the family
Off to find fortunes that can't be bought
Now Paddy's struck down from a single shot
Paddy's struck down from a single shot!
They lured the men away they promised wealth and riches
A thousand miles from home lying steel and digging ditches
The work would be a challenge nary a soul could stand the trial
These wayfaring boys built the railways toughest mile
Fifty-seven men on the hardest mile!
Fifty-seven men on the hardest mile
Murdered for their troubles, left to die
Immigrant sons from Donegal, Tyrone & Derry
Their numbers were few but they did the job of many
Eight weeks went by and the path was clear
Fifty-seven men had all disappeared
Not a mention of their name no stone was ever turned
It would be so many years before the truth was ever learned
Fifty-seven men on the hardest mile
Murdered for their troubles, left to die
Immigrant sons from Donegal, Tyrone & Derry
Their numbers were few but they did the job of many
Now ghosts dance a jig on an unmarked grave
A slug full of lead was the price they were paid
Vigilante justice, prejudice and pride
No one in this valley will be seen again alive
Fifty-seven men on the hardest mile
Murdered for their troubles, left to die
Immigrant sons from Donegal, Tyrone & Derry
Their numbers were few but they did the job of many
Fifty-seven men on the hardest mile
Murdered for their troubles, left to die
Immigrant sons from Donegal, Tyrone & Derry
Their numbers were few but they did the job of many
Sending every penny home to the family
Off to find fortunes that can't be bought
Now Paddy's struck down from a single shot
Paddy's struck down from a single shot!
They lured the men away they promised wealth and riches
A thousand miles from home lying steel and digging ditches
The work would be a challenge nary a soul could stand the trial
These wayfaring boys built the railways toughest mile
Fifty-seven men on the hardest mile!
Fifty-seven men on the hardest mile
Murdered for their troubles, left to die
Immigrant sons from Donegal, Tyrone & Derry
Their numbers were few but they did the job of many
Eight weeks went by and the path was clear
Fifty-seven men had all disappeared
Not a mention of their name no stone was ever turned
It would be so many years before the truth was ever learned
Fifty-seven men on the hardest mile
Murdered for their troubles, left to die
Immigrant sons from Donegal, Tyrone & Derry
Their numbers were few but they did the job of many
Now ghosts dance a jig on an unmarked grave
A slug full of lead was the price they were paid
Vigilante justice, prejudice and pride
No one in this valley will be seen again alive
Fifty-seven men on the hardest mile
Murdered for their troubles, left to die
Immigrant sons from Donegal, Tyrone & Derry
Their numbers were few but they did the job of many
Fifty-seven men on the hardest mile
Murdered for their troubles, left to die
Immigrant sons from Donegal, Tyrone & Derry
Their numbers were few but they did the job of many
Dropkick Murphys